Second Chances
by ManfredsAwesomeAdmin95
Summary: Some of your favorite Barricade Boys get sent into the future instead of dying. Jehan meets Austin & Ally, Enjolras meets Michael Weston & Co. (Burn Notice), and Grantaire meets Dr. Doofenshmirtz (Phineas & Ferb). Each one gets a second chance to make an influence on the world, and they might even meet up again!
1. Chapter 1: Austin, Ally, & Jehan

Jean "Jehan" Prouvaire knew he was facing his death, but he was tired of being the quiet, timid boy that his friends had always known. Plucking up his courage, he stepped out of the alleyway behind the soldiers. "Long live France!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, attracting their attention and aim. "Long live the revolution!" He had barely gotten the last word out when he felt the lead slugs slam into his chest. He smiled at his horrified friends, and blacked out, only slightly aware of the surprisingly dull pain the bullets had made on impact. That pain faded as quickly as his vision and the world around him did. 'So this is what death feels like,' he thought. 'It really is like going to sleep.'

* * *

"Ally! Ally, you've gotta get in here!"

"Ugh, this better not be another one of your stupid brain-sucking alien pranks, Dez," the slim, dark-haired girl warned, getting up from her piano and following her crazy friend out into the main part of the Sonic Boom. "What do you-" Her eyes widened when she saw the unconscious young man on the floor. "Oh...oh, my God...! Dez, what did you do to this poor guy?!" She knelt beside him, examining him to find the cause of his unconsciousness.

"I didn't do anything! I just turned away for a second, and when I turned back, _he_ was there!"

"Yeah, right. In any case, we need to get him into the back room, try and make sure he's comfortable when he wakes up. Help me carry him!" Dez reluctantly did as he was told, and helped Ally carry the boy into the back room and settle him on the couch.

"He looks so weird...his hair's braided, and he's wearing really old clothes, like from that Lay Miz Rahb movie you like so much. Maybe he's a cosplayer, or something."

"It's better than some of the stuff I've seen on you, Dez. At least he's not sporting a 'Team Ally' t-shirt!"

"Hey! I worked really hard on that!"

"Ugh, mon Dieu..." Both teens were startled when the mystery guy stared up at them groggily. "Où suis-je? Pourquoi suis-je pas mort?!" He suddenly sat bolt upright, frantically patting his chest as if looking for something. "Pas de trous? Mais j'ai été touché au moins trois fois...!" He looked back and forth between the two bewildered teens. "Et qui êtes-vous?!" They just stared at the boy, not understanding a word he said.

"U-um, excuse me..?" Ally asked, deciding to be the brave one. The boy's eyes widened, but he nodded and switched to English.

"Forgive me. I said, 'Where am I, and who are you?'"

"Actually, I don't blame you. As for your questions, you're in the Sonic Boom, in Miami, and I'm Ally. The goofy coppertop is my friend, Dez."

"Ah, bonjour. I am Jean Prouvaire, but you may call me Jehan. Hmm? Ally..?" he said, growing worried when the girl began to slowly back away from him, eyes wide with horror. "What's wrong...?"

"N-no way...There's no way you're really here, right now. I-I mean, y-you're dead...! And not real...!"

"Ah. I should've known I would not escape my demise at the barricade. It seems this is a strange fantasy my poet's mind has created to ease the pain of dying."

"Dude, if this is all in your head, then I'm having the same crazy dream. I gotta quit drinking soda before I go to bed!"

"Same with me...and I can't keep watching Les Miserables until one in the morning..."

"Okay, Ally, that explains why why you haven't been able to write any songs, lately. OMG! WHAT IS JEHAN DOING BACK HERE?!" Trish asked, squealing when she saw the blond revolutionary. Jehan jumped back a bit, startled by her sudden loudness. "Did you finally find a way to bring him out of the book?!"

"No!"

"What? I don't understand, how would I have come out of a book...?"

"Uh...long story," Ally said evasively.

"Look, what's the last thing you remember?"

"I...I was being executed by the National Guardsmen..." His eyes suddenly lit up. "Am I in Heaven?"

"No...You're in Miami, Florida, in the United States of America. What was the date?"

"Er, June 5, 1832."

"Today is June 5, 2013."

"WHAT?!"

"You're nearly two centuries into the future," Trish said in awe.

"But...how?! I should have died with my friends, defending the barricade!" The young man had tears rolling down his cheeks, now. "What will become of Paris? How will we rid France of tyranny?"

"Jehan...France is a republic, now. They aren't ruled over by a cruel king, anymore. Your friends didn't die in vain," Ally said kindly, gently laying a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He closed his eyes and leaned into her, and she put her arms around him, holding him like she would hold a child who had just had a terrible nightmare. "It's alright. Everything is alright, now. You don't have to worry about the barricade. We're going to take care of you."

"Merci, Ally," Jehan murmured in reply, finally looking up at her with baby blue eyes that were still filled with tears. She slowly wiped away the tears that had already fallen onto his cheeks, and he gave her a small smile.

"Ally? Who's the new guy...?" They both turned to look up at another blond boy, about the same age as Ally, who looked almost insulted by Jehan's appearance. The older blonde quickly clammed up and refused to look like he felt.

"Jean Prouvaire," he said calmly. "You may call me Jehan."

"Oh. I'm Austin Moon." The younger boy walked over and offered a friendly handshake.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Austin." Jehan smiled and accepted the handshake.

"Same here, bro. Just don't use my partner as your therapist again, 'kay?"

"Partner..?"

"Yeah. Ally and I write songs and sing together."

"That's great! I write poetry, and play the flute," Jehan replied with a genuine grin, forgetting his sadness almost completely.

"Hey, maybe you could help us!" Austin grinned back, followed by Ally.

"Yeah! I haven't been able to write any good lyrics for weeks, and Austin's looking for a new hit song to start off his latest album! What do you say?"

"W-well...alright, that sounds like fun!"

* * *

**Ok, Translation time!**

**Jehan's questions: "Where am I? Why am I not dead? No holes? But I was hit at least three times...! And who are you?"**


	2. Chapter 2: Dr D Meets Grantaire

Grantaire stumbled up the steps to the top floor of Café Musain and pushed his way through the team of National Guardsmen that were about to execute Enjolras. "Wait," he said, obviously drunk. He looked his leader and closest friend in the eye, and went to stand beside him. "I'm one of them, too. Take us both in one shot." As the general asked Enjolras if he permitted this, Grantaire gently but firmly took his hand, letting him no that, no matter what the answer was, the drunk wouldn't leave his side. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Enjolras nodded, raising the red flag of the revolution above his head. Closing his eyes, the young man prepared to die. He fully expected to feel the sharp pain of bullets tearing through his chest. What he didn't expect was the feeling of Enjolras's hand being ripped from his own as the blond revolutionary was replaced by a ragged-looking stranger from the future. Grantaire had no idea where the stranger had actually come from, but he just barely felt the metal slugs enter his body before he, too, disappeared.

* * *

Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz sat on the floor of his living room with his head in his hands. He and his daughter, Vanessa, had been fighting, again, and she had just walked out on him. "Why..? Why can't she see that I'm _trying _to be a good father to her? Why does she hate me?!" Heinz was so caught up in his despair that he didn't notice the dark-haired young man who suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Où suis-je?!" the stranger yelled, looking around frantically, finally catching the doctor's attention. Doofenshmirtz looked up at the young man, startled by his seemingly random appearance, and not understanding him. The stranger got the hint and repeated himself in English. "Where am I?!"

"I-I...Y-you're in my living room! How did you even get here, in the first place?!"

"I have no idea, but I guess it's better than where I was a moment ago." By this time, Doofenshmirtz good tell that the young man obviously wasn't from this point in time, that he wore the makeshift uniform of a French revolutionary, and that he was more than a little bit drunk.

"And where, may I ask, was that?" he asked, cautiously.

"Paris, France, about to be executed with my best friend."

"Oh." Doofenshmirtz frowned. "Do you remember the year?"

"1832, but why should that matter?" the boy scoffed.

"Because it is now June 5, 2013."

"Yeah, right. Just 'cause I'm drunk doesn't mean I'm easily fooled!"

"Why would I lie to you about the year, when you just randomly showed up in my living room for no apparent reason? Especially when I am not even close to being in a joking mood?" Heinz stood up, angry with the boy's insolence. "How dare you accuse me of trying to fool you?! What is your name, boy?"

"Grantaire, and there is no way this is even possible. I can't be nearly 200 years into my own future, not when my friends have all died fighting for their country! I must have passed out before my life slipped away. This has to be some insane dream!"

"Then we are having the same insane dream, and my daughter didn't just storm out of here saying she hates me!" Grantaire stared at the distraught scientist.

"I...I'm sorry, monsieur. I didn't know," he apologized quietly.

"You couldn't have known. She left before you showed up. It's not your fault that I'm the worst father on the planet..."

"She told you that?"

"Among other things, yes."

"I can already tell that's not even close to true."

Doofenshmirtz looked up at him. "How? You don't even know me, or her."

"I can see that you obviously love her a lot. You care enough about her to cry when she storms off like that. My old man couldn't have cared less whether I was home, or dead in the gutter. He was never seen without a bottle in his hand, so I guess that's where I got it from. But you are the complete opposite."

"I thought you were supposed to be a drunk fool..."

"So I am, but that doesn't mean I can't see what's plain as day in front of me. Your father...he was horrible to you, too, wasn't he...? That's why you try so hard for your daughter."

"I...yes," Heinz replied with a sigh.

"Don't ever stop."

"Of course I won't stop! I will never stop loving Vanessa! No matter how much she hates me, I will always love my daughter!"

"That's great. One problem, though," Grantaire slurred, swaying a bit and trying to keep his balance. "I can't get the room to stop spinning..." And with that, the youth promptly passed out. Alarmed, Dr. Doofenshmirtz caught him and half carried, half dragged the boy into the spare bedroom, barely able to lift him onto the bed. After he finally did, he gently laid the covers over his new charge.

"Get some rest while you can, kid," the scientist said softly, leaving the room.

* * *

"Hey, Grant! How's Daddy doing? Any new schemes?" In the eight months that Grantaire had lived with Dr. Doofenshmirtz, he'd done many things that he had never imagined he had the capacity to do, such as quitting his drinking habit, learning to play guitar, helping with various plots to take over the tri-state area, and getting to know Vanessa Doofenshmirtz. He had also helped the doctor to calm down quite a bit.

"Haha, not yet, Nessie," he replied happily, using his little nickname for her.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," she scolded playfully. Grantaire only pulled her into a hug.

"And I told you not to call me Grant."

"You really like being called 'R'?"

"Oui, I do~"

"Whatever, just help me carry stuff inside!" She giggled, and they both went to grab some grocery bags from the back of her father's car. She had left the radio on, and Grantaire stopped to listen.

"Hey, who sings this song?"

"Are you kidding me? You don't know Austin, Ally, and Jehan? They're only the hottest trio in the country!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, these lyrics sound kind of familiar..."

"Oh, you're hopeless, Grantaire!"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that."

"Just shut up and help me!"

"Okay, okay...! _Gosse arrogant_," he muttered under his breath with a smirk.

"What was that?"

"I'm coming..!" He strode into the house with two heavy bags of groceries in his arms. "Close the door. It's freezing out there!" As she did so, he set the grocery bags on the counter. "So, how've you been?"

"Eh, good, I guess. I'm passing all of my classes."

"All A's?"

"Almost. I'm having a bit of trouble in math. I just can't concentrate with all the other kids yelling about drugs and parties, and I really don't understand what we're going over, anyway."

"You should ask your dad to tutor you."

"Why can't you help me with it?"

"Because I'm even worse at math than you!" he replied with a laugh.

* * *

**Translations:**

**_Gosse arrogant_: Pushy brat**

**Lol that's pretty much it. Grantaire pretty much translates himself most of the time.**


	3. Chapter 3: Burn Notice for Enjolras

_When you're a spy, you often come across many strange things in your lifetime. They might have to do with international supervillains that look like the walked straight out of a Clive Cussler novel, or they might be involved with your best friend who used to inform on you to the CIA, gun happy girlfriend, and/or your stubborn mother. However, I don't think any spy, even after they've been burned has ever encountered a French college student claiming to have been killed at a barricade in 1832._

* * *

The blonde man looked around him at the three people who were all pointing handguns at him: two men, and a woman. The tall, dark-haired man stared into his blue eyes, seeming to search them for his intentions. "Who are you, and why are you in my mother's house?" he asked harshly.

"Mike!" the woman chastised. She had an Irish accent. "You're scaring the boy!"

"Fi, you're holding a gun on him, too." The woman called Fi rolled her eyes and walked over to the boy, lowering her gun.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, he's not even armed!" she said, glaring at the two men, then turning back to the frightened young man. "I'm Fiona. What's your name?"

"E-Enjolras," he stammered out his reply, wondering how the French National Guardsmen and the upper floor of the café had been replaced by these three strangers and a small house. "Where am I?"

"Well, as I said before, you're in my mother's house, but I'm guessing that's not the answer you're looking for," the one called Mike said, not helping at all. Fiona rolled her eyes again.

"You're in Miami, Florida," the other man explained, lowering his gun. "What I don't get is how the hell you got here. You just kinda poofed outta nowhere!"

"Yeah, and whatever you did made the guy we were holding disappear at the exact same time!"

"If you were trying to help him escape..."

"Sam! Why would he do that?" Fiona scolded.

"I wouldn't, but if what you said is true, then whoever you were holding is most likely dead." They all looked at Enjolras, waiting for further explanation. "When I...'poofed' here, I was about to be executed by a team of French National Guardsmen for leading a rebellion against the king. If we switched places, then he would have been shot, instead of me, and Grantaire..." he trailed off, remembering that his friend had come to die beside him, and was instantly filled with an immense sadness. "Grantaire would have died a hero, beside a complete stranger," he murmured, collapsing to his knees. Sam and Mike looked at him like he had grown a second head, but Fiona knelt beside him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright," she said softly, looking into his bright blue eyes. "We can talk later, but right now, you need to get some rest. You've been through a lot." Enjolras nodded slowly, refusing to speak and let his pent up tears flow in their presence.

"Fi, you honestly believe this guy?" Michael asked incredulously, but was only met with a fierce glare from his girlfriend. Seeing that he wasn't going to win this argument, he rolled his eyes. "Fine. Sam, help me set up a room for him. I'm warning you right now, though, kid. When my mother finds out she's got another mouth to feed, she'll be all over you!" Sam laughed at this, and went to help Mike set up his mother's guest room. Fiona helped Enjolras into a chair, and offered him something to drink.

"Just water, please," he replied quietly. With a nod, she got them each a glass. "Thank you." They spent the next few minutes in silence, before Fiona figured out what to say next.

"I've always wanted to go to Paris. It always seemed like such a beautiful city..."

"It was." Enjolras smiled a bit, as he told her all about what Paris was like when he was growing up. "People lined the streets with carts, selling anything from pastries, to clothes, to good luck charms. I'll never forget crossing the bridge early one morning to get to class, and watching the sun rise over the river! It was the most amazing sight I'd ever seen, and still is." Fiona smiled dreamily, picturing everything the young revolutionary described.

"You should see the sunrise over Miami Beach," Sam interjected, popping his head around the corner. "It's absolutely gorgeous."

"I didn't know you were the kind of guy that watched sunrises, Sam," Fiona retorted.

"I don't _watch_ them. I just happened to see one while I was on my way home. Anyway, your bed's ready, kid." Enjolras nodded, and followed the older man to his new room. "I hope it's comfortable, 'cause it looks like you'll be here for a while."

"Thank you."

"Nah, don't mention it. Get some sleep. You'll need it, trust me." With that, Sam left, closing the door behind him. Enjolras flopped backward onto the bed, exhausted, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

"Enjy! Hurry up and get out here! Your breakfast is ready!"

"Coming, Maman," Enjolras called, slipping into a t-shirt and jeans before walking out to the kitchen. Maddie Weston had eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns waiting for him on the table, and he grinned. "It smells amazing!"

"Yeah, but it's gonna get cold, if you don't eat it quickly. Mike and Fi called earlier."

"Really?"

"They wanted to know if you were up for another _adventure_."

"Of course I'm up for it!" he said with another grin.

It had been eight months since Enjolras had first arrived at Maddie's house, and in that time, she had come to think of him as another son. Sam, Michael, and Fiona had brought him on several of their escapades, and welcomed him into their group. In turn, Enjolras looked up to them as older siblings that he could always depend on. He had taken to being a spy rather quickly, and was very adept at shooting and strategy. Michael was even working on teaching him how to drive!

"Not if Fi's driving, you're not. That girl's a road-rage maniac!"

"No she's not, Maman!" Enjolras laughed. "She drives perfectly safe! Most of the time..."

"Yeah, most of the time. One of these days, she's gonna get herself killed at an intersection, chasing some gun-toting lunatic, and I don't want you with her when she does!"

"Honestly, you worry too much. I've lived through worse, believe me..! I'll be fine." He stood up to take care of his dishes, and kissed Maddie's cheek lightly. "I'll call you when I'm on my way home, okay? Love you."

"Love you, too, kiddo. Stay safe!"

"I will..!" Enjolras said, grabbing a leather jacket and a 9mm handgun that Michael had loaned him, and lacing up his boots before going out to the black '73 Charger, where Michael, Sam, and Fiona were waiting for him.

"Jeez, kid. Took you long enough!"

"Sorry, but Maman wouldn't let me outta the house until I promised her Fi wasn't driving...!" They all laughed, and took off on their next mission.

**AN: Yes, I had to put the Charger in here. That, mes amis, is a freakin' sweet vehicle! :3 Anyway hope you enjoy my little plot bunnies. I don't own anything!**


	4. Chapter 4: Eponine in the Middle

Eponine looked up into Marius's eyes, glad to finally have his arms around her. "Hush-a-bye, dear Eponine," she heard him say, tears streaming down his face. "You won't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt you, now. I'm here. I'll stay with you til you are sleeping."

"And rain," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And rain," he repeated.

"Will make the flowers..."

"Will make the flowers...grow," she barely heard him finish as she slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

*****EPPIE IN THE MIDDLE*****

Axl Heck was on his way home from school in the pouring rain when he saw someone lying on the side of the road. Curious and a little worried he pulled over and got out to help her. As he knelt beside her, he tried to remember what he had learned while training to become a lifeguard. "O-okay, gotta find a pulse..." He gingerly picked up her wrist and felt for even the smallest hint of a pulse. Not being able to feel one, he carefully leaned his head over her chest and listened for a heartbeat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a faint but regular rhythm, and went back to kneeling beside her. He noticed that she was dressed very raggedly, like some kind of peasant from the 1800's. "Hey...Hey, can you hear me...? Hello?" Finally, after a few moments of trying to wake her, he decided to put her in his car and drive her to a hospital, since he didn't have his phone. Gently, he lifted the mystery girl into his arms and stood.

The sudden movement caused her eyes to flutter open. "M-Marius...?" she asked, looking up at him innocently.

"O-oh...You're awake. Sorry, my name's Axl. What happened?"

"I-I..." He could tell the girl was struggling to keep her eyes open.

"You know what, never mind. Just get some rest. I'm gonna get you to a hospital."

"N-no..."

"You need help..!"

"No, I-I am fine, m'sieur Axl. I don't feel any pain." She smiled up at him.

"You sure? I thought you got hit by a car, or something."

"No, I just fell, but I'll be alright."

"At least let me take you home. You'll get soaked if I leave you here."

"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me, now," she said with a chuckle, already regaining her strength. He found it almost impossible to smile at this, but he still carried her to his car. "Merci," she said as he slid her into the passenger seat and closed the door, then went around to the drivers side and started the car. The sound of the engine seemed to startle the girl a bit.

"So, where's your house?"

"I...don't have a home."

"Oh...then what's your name?"

"Eponine Thenardier," she replied.

"You're from France?"

"Oui, Paris, to be exact. Where am I, now?"

Axl turned to look at her, startled. "You're in Orson, Indiana, in the United States...!"

"Oh, wow! How exciting! I've been transported to a brand new state!"

"Uh, no...Indiana's been around for a couple hundred years..."

"Then...I am in the future?"

"That depends. What year was it the last time you checked?!"

"1832."

"WHAT?!"

"Please, m'sieur, don't shout..."

"Sorry, but how am I supposed to believe that I'm driving around some French girl from the 1800's?!"

"And how am I supposed to believe I'm still alive, and in the future?!"

"Okay, good point...wait, still alive?! Y-you're supposed to be dead?!"

"Last time I checked, I was dying in the arms of the man I loved. That's why I called you Marius when I woke up! You're nothing like him, by the way!" she snapped, scowling at him. "Axl just glared at the road and kept driving. "What is this...thing, anyway? It's faster than any carriage I've seen."

"It's called a car, and it goes faster because it's motorized." They stayed silent for a while, before Axl finally grinned, getting a brilliant idea. "Hey, you wanna see how fast it can really go?" Eponine nodded, and he turned onto a long country road. "Ready?" He smirked and gunned the engine, cruising down the dirt road at 140 MPH. Eponine jumped and squealed with delight, making him laugh out loud. They cruised like that for a few minutes before he was forced to slow down and stop at an intersection.

"THAT WAS AMAZING!" she squealed, reaching over to hug him. He blushed at this, and awkwardly hugged her back.

"O-okay...since you said you don't have a place to stay...why don't I take you to my house? I'll talk to my parents, and ask if you can stay with us." Eponine pulled away and looked into his blue eyes.

"You would do that for me...? W-we just met..."

"So? That doesn't mean I'm just gonna leave you out on the street. H-hey, don't cry...!" he said, growing worried as he watched her warm brown eyes fill with tears. "D-did I say something wrong?"

"No...I've just never had someone care so much for little ol' me..."

"Whoa, what about that Marius guy? I thought you said he was your love, or something."

"He couldn't have cared less how I felt about him. Even as I lay dying in his arms, the first thing he asked me was if I had delivered his letter to the girl he _actually_ loved!"

"Wow...what a world-class jerk! He must've been an idiot not to love you..." At this moment, Axl found it extremely hard not to kiss the girl beside him. He only refrained because he realized that they had been sitting at the intersection for fifteen minutes. "Sorry...we should get going," he said, letting off the brakes and resuming their journey home. They never noticed the tall, black-haired young man that appeared on the side of the road, glaring at them with dark green eyes. They couldn't see that he had flagged down a car and was now following them.

When they finally arrived, Axl politely opened the door for Eponine and led her into his parents' house. "Mom? Dad? There's someone I'd like you to meet."

"Who?" Frankie Heck asked, making her way to the front door to meet her son and his guest, followed closely by her husband, Mike. They both were shocked when they saw the brown-eyed, dark-haired peasant girl standing just behind him.

"Mom, Dad, this is Eponine Thenardier. I found her on the side of the road, today. She's...lost, and she needs a place to stay." The girl just looked at them shyly.

"Okay, first of all, you realize that everything you just said rhymed, right?" Frankie asked. "Second of all, how do you know you can trust this girl?!"

"Yeah, use your head, Axl," Mike chimed in. "She could be feedin' ya a pack of lies so she can rob us while we're sleeping!"

"She's not that kind of girl!"

"How do you know that?! You said you picked her up off the street!"

"M'sieur...I'm not my mother, or my father. They tried to teach me to rob and steal, but I wouldn't listen to them. That's why I look like this, and part of why your son found me on the side of the road. I thank God that he did, for if he'd kept going, I would have died." The three of them stared at Eponine, partly in disbelief, partly in awe. No one had expected her to defend Axl, nor did his parents realize that their son had actually helped her out of the goodness of his heart. "Axl is remarkable and kind, and I really wish there were more boys on this earth like him."

"O-oh..." Frankie stammered out. "Well, in that case, come in. You can stay as long as you need to. I'm sure Sue wouldn't mind sharing her room with you, and you could probably even borrow some of her clothes, or mine, if you need to. Hang on, I'll go get her. SUE! C'mere!" A moment later, an awkward-looking girl with long, honey-colored hair and braces scurried into the room.

"What's up, Mom?"

"This is Eponine. She's gonna be staying with us for awhile, so I need you to set up a sleeping bag in your room."

"Oh, Mom! You can't make our guest sleep on the floor!" The girl then turned to Eponine and offered a handshake. "I'm Sue. You can have my bed for as long as you need it," she said happily. Eponine smiled and shook her hand.

"Merci, Sue. You are all so kind."

Just then, Brick Heck walked through the front door, followed closely by a young boy who looked a lot like Eponine, and was dressed in much the same style. "Sorry, Mom. I couldn't get him to stop following me, and he doesn't understand English."

"Bonjour~" the other boy said cheerily.

"Gavroche! Que faites-vous ici?!"

"Je vous suivais, 'Ponine. Ensuite, j'ai suivi ce garçon. Il est très étrange. Je ne comprends pas un mot, dit-il!"

"Gav, ne soyez pas impoli...!"

"Désolé. Où sommes-nous, de toute façon? Ce n'est pas Paris!"

"Orson, Indiana."

"Oh."

Eponine finally turned back to the Hecks and explained. "This is my little brother, Gavroche. He does not speak English very well, but I've been trying to teach him. Would it be alright if he stayed with you, too...?" When they nodded yes, she explained it to Gavroche in French. Smiling at his response, she translated. "He's very grateful to you all!"

"Great, we'll get you both set up, now. Gavroche will have to share a room with Brick and Axl," Frankie started, but Axl interrupted her.

"I can make up my room in the garage again so Gav and Brick can have more space."

"Wow, Axl, I'm really proud of you! You're being so selfless, for a change!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Axl looked down shyly, making Eponine giggle. This, in turn, caused him to blush bright red. "Right, so, uh...I'm gonna go get started on that. Yeah. Seeya!" he said, taking off toward the garage. Sue took Eponine's hand and excitedly led her to their room. Brick did the same with Gavroche. Frankie looked up at her husband and smiled.

"I guess they haven't turned out so bad, huh?"

*****EPPIE IN THE MIDDLE!*****

Eight months after she and Gavroche had moved in with the Hecks, Eponine was hanging out with Axl and Sue when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she said with barely a trace of her French accent, and went to the door. When she opened it, she found an almost too perfect-looking girl waiting to be let in. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Morgan. Is Axl here?"

"That depends," Eponine said with a bit of a scowl. "Are you here to rip his heart to shreds, again?"

"So that's what his mom told you about me?"

"No, that's what he told me about you. I highly doubt he wants to see you again."

"Oh, I get it. Are you his new girlfriend, or something?" Morgan asked snidely.

"If I said yes, would you leave him alone?" Eponine retorted, not expecting Axl to back her up.

"Yeah, Morgan. I've been over you for two whole years, and Eponine actually cares about me, so just get lost," he said, walking up behind the dark-haired beauty and putting an arm around her shoulders. Eponine blushed, but kept glaring at the other girl, who sneered, turned on her heel, and left. Axl happily closed the door behind her. "Hey, for the first time since I met her, she didn't even try to hide her evil side," he said with a slight smirk.

"Maybe she thinks she can scare me off," Eponine giggled.

"Well then, she's got her work cut out for her, huh, 'Ponine?" His smirk turned into a full-fledged grin, and she couldn't help but laugh. They hugged and went to sit back down with Sue.

"I wonder what she wanted, though," the younger girl piped up.

*****EPPIE IN THE MIDDLE!*****

As Morgan stalked down the Hecks' driveway, back to her car, she was startled to find a tall, pale young man with shoulder-length black hair and hauntingly green eyes leaning against it, his lips curled into an amused smirk. "Ooh, that was a bit harsh," he said with the charming English accent that he had adopted in order to hide his origins. Morgan just stared at him in shock. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm not a bloody demon, though I _have_ been called one..."

"What are you doing by my car?"

"Watching you, of course. Well, really, I was watching the girl inside that house. Her name is Eponine, and you don't have to worry about her stealing your beau. They aren't together. Actually, she's mine; she's just forgotten, I'm afraid. I'm going to get her back on the right track, though. Say, if you help me, I might even convince him to come back to you, as well. What say you?" As Morgan took time to process this, she felt the strange man move closer to her. "Well? What's the verdict?"

"I-I...I don't know...Who are you, anyway?" She couldn't place it, but something didn't seem right about him. It made him look very dangerous and alluring at the same time.

"My name is Monty, and I'm not very a patient man," he said with just a hint of a growl. This brought Morgan out of her fog, and she glared at him.

"Why go after her if she doesn't love you? Why not move on with someone new?"

"My, my, you are just _full_ of questions, aren't you, my dear?" He smirked at her last question. "Why? Are you volunteering?"

"Pffft, no..! I just want to know your motives before I say yes, and get myself into a whole lot of trouble."

"Oh, dear. Do I look like trouble to you?"

"Yeah, you do."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave you to your sulking, then." With that, he turned on his heel and started to walk away, trying with all his might not to lose his cool and go off on her.

"You didn't let me finish. You look like the kind of trouble that's really hot, so I guess I can help you, on one condition."

"Oh?" He stopped and turned back to look at her, mildly surprised. "And what is that?"

"If it doesn't work...if either of us doesn't get our love back, we have to help each other move on. No more dwelling on the past, got it?"

"You have my word," Monty said, almost without thinking. Morgan couldn't help herself, and let out a small giggle. "What's so funny?"

"Sorry, you just sounded so old-fashioned when you said that...!" she giggled again.

"I didn't know being a gentleman was considered old-fashioned," he replied with a laugh of his own. It was hard not to abandon Eponine for this strange, modern girl. She was, after all, very beautiful, and her voice sounded like music to his ears. She didn't despise him, either. The only problem was that they were both strung up on their past loves. If only he could let Eponine go. "As I was saying, you have yourself a deal, miss..." he trailed off, not knowing her name.

"Morgan," she provided.

"Ah, Morgan. What a lovely name." He smiled at her, and turned to leave again. "I'll see you soon, then."

"Actually, I could give you a ride home, if you want."

"Really? Thank you."

**Holy cow, this one was freakin' long...but that's because there were three Les Mis characters instead of one, I guess. Yes, I had to add 'Parnasse! :3 R&R, please?**

**Eponine's convo with Gavroche translated:**

**"Gavroche! What are you doing here?!"**

**"I followed you, 'Ponine. Then I followed the boy. He is very strange. I can't understand a word he says!"**

**"Gav, don't be rude!"**

**"Sorry. Where are we, anyway? This isn't Paris!"**


	5. Chapter 5: Valentine's Day

**Happy Valentine's Day! I'm listening to a country radio station for inspiration, and Kieth Urban just said that some woman called in to tell him that her boyfriend gave her an iPad for V-Day after they had been dating for only three weeks. He thought it was absolutely ridiculous, and so did I. Anyway, what does this have to do with my story? Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. I just felt the need to tell y'all that. Anyway, does anyone want to know how Enjolras, Jehan, Grantaire, Eponine, Gavroche, and Montparnasse spent their Valentine's Day in the modern world? Well, you're in for a treat! Hobey-ho, let's go!**

* * *

Montparnasse sat alone in his motel room. He had convinced the landlady to let him work in exchange for food and shelter, but she had given him today day off. "Are you sure? I can still work today. It's really no trouble..."

"Aw, and miss spending Valentine's Day with your sweetheart? Besides, you'd be the only one working. Everyone else has the day off, too. Now, go have fun. Sweep her off her feet!" Seeing that the kindly older lady wasn't giving him a choice, he trudged off back to his room, not even bothering to tell her that he didn't have a sweetheart. Not even close. He'd failed to get Eponine to even come close to forgiving him, let alone run back into his arms, and he seriously doubted that Morgan wanted anything to do with him. She was still strung out on that Axl boy that had rejected her for Eponine. Sure, the two unlikely partners had promised that they would get over their respective "loves" if they failed in winning them back, but that was easier said than done. None of his neighbors had bothered to get to know him, and most of them had plans, anyway. He could even hear the girl next door squeal as her boyfriend surprised her with an engagement ring. Sighing heavily, Montparnasse laid back on his bed, and let the warm, salty tears fall from his emerald green eyes. He was utterly alone.

Suddenly, the phone on the wall began to ring. "Who would be calling me..?" he wondered aloud, drying his face and gaining control of his emotions before answering. "Hello?" he asked coolly.

"Monty...?" a tentative female voice said on the other end, sounding like she had been crying as well. "I...Can you come meet me in the park? I-I need you."

"Morgan? Er...hang on, I'll be right there." After he was sure she had hung up, he quickly put the phone back and threw on his leather jacket and boots before rushing out to the lobby. Excuse me, Ms. Lowery, may I borrow your car for the day?"

"Of course, dear," the landlady said with a twinkle in her eye. "Just be careful, and good luck!" He nodded a quick thanks and rushed out the door with her keys. He had taken to driving rather quickly, despite the lack of motorized vehicles in 1800's Paris, and maneuvered Ms. Lowery's '67 Impala flawlessly through Orson.

"Please...please let her be alright," he thought aloud, making his way to the park as fast as legally possible.

When he arrived, he found Morgan curled up on a park bench, shivering and crying. "Morgan? What's wrong? Why are you out here in the cold?"

"I was supposed to meet Axl so that we could talk things out."

"And he stood you up?" Montparnasse growled, sitting beside her. "How dare-"

"No," she cut him off. "He showed up, and we did talk...but he wants nothing to do with me. He said he's in love with that Eponine girl." At this, she burst into tears again, and Monty found himself wrapping his arms around her to comfort her. She buried her face in his chest and kept crying. They stayed like that for about half an hour before the cold began to get to them.

"We should get you indoors," Montparnasse murmured softly. "I don't want you to freeze." Morgan nodded, and he led her over to the Impala, helping her into the passenger seat.

"Nice car," she said with a sniff. "She yours?"

"No, my landlady let me borrow it for the day. I still need to find another job, so I can earn enough money to buy my own."

"Oh."

"So...would you like something to eat?"

"Yeah. Some warm soup sounds great, actually." For the first time that day, he finally saw Morgan smile, even if it was a small one. This made him smile, as well, and she looked up at him. "Monty?"

"Hmm?"

"We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

"Yes. Yes, I believe we are," he replied with a grin. He'd finally found someone to really love.

* * *

*****HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!*****

Grantaire stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz, the self-proclaimed "Evil Scientist" who had taken him in eight months ago, was already sitting at the small table, eating breakfast. "Just grab whatever you want from the fridge," he told his young charge. The boy did as he was told, grabbing a container of peach yogurt and two chocolate flavored pop-tarts, and sat down across from him. "Do you know what today is?" the scientist asked sadly.

"Yeah, it's February 14th. Unless I went time-traveling again," Grantaire answered with a good-natured smirk.

"Not the date. What is today?"

"Uh...Friday?" Suddenly, the boy's eyes lit up. "Of course! It's Valentine's Day! Oh..." he trailed off when he saw the frown on Heinz's face, and the deep sadness in his eyes. "Sorry."

"No, don't be. You aren't the reason that I'm alone; it's my own fault. I'm the one who screwed things up with my wife."

"Yeah, but how long ago was that?"

"It still feels like it was just yesterday."

"Maybe it's time you met someone else."

"Who in their right mind is going to want an evil scientist like me?!"

"Oi, you can't be the skeptic; that's my job!" Grantaire grinned, his light blue eyes twinkling. "Besides, you'll never know unless you try!" He chuckled when Doofenshmirtz rolled his eyes, not believing the boy's optimism. "Come on, I'll take you out to a club, and we'll both find ourselves dates. It'll be fun!"

"Fine," the older man sighed. "But I'm not promising anything, and Vanessa hears nothing about this, comprende?"

"I'm French, not Spanish, but I understand. I won't tell your daughter."

"Good. One more thing."

"What's that?"

"Pace yourself. I don't want you getting sick like you did those first few weeks. You've been sober for far too long to fall off the wagon, now."

"Alright, 'Dad'," Grantaire said with a grin and a roll of his eyes. This finally made Doofenshmirtz smile, and they both got up to take care of their dishes. The younger man went to his room to get dressed.

Several hours later, Grantaire came out in a faded AC/DC t-shirt, a black leather biker jacket, and black jeans that covered the boots he had brought with him from Paris. He found Doofenshmirtz waiting for him in the living room, wearing a black turtleneck, khaki pants, and black loafers. The boy looked him up and down, amused. "What?" the scientist snapped.

"That's not what you wear to get women to notice you at a club, mon ami."

"I don't pull off the biker gang look, like you do!"

"You don't have to, but you also don't have to look so formal. Try a nice t-shirt and jeans, maybe some boots." Doofenshmirtz rolled his eyes and went to change. When he came back, he had on a plain black t-shirt, faded blue-jeans, and black cowboy boots. He had also taken the time to try and tame his wild hair, so he looked somewhat younger. Grantaire grinned. "Not too bad, Heinz, not too bad. You should probably stand up straight, though." Heinz did so, and smiled back a bit hopefully. "Bingo! You're ready to go get yourself a girl."

"Alright, let's go before I lose my nerve."

"Right." With that, the two friends headed out to a honky-tonk that Grantaire knew was going to be full of single, tan-legged beauties. Once there, they were both swarmed with women who wanted to dance. The younger of the two opted to dance with a tall, gorgeous blonde, while Heinz was dragged onto the floor by a not-so-shy brunette, whose violet eyes captivated him. The band was playing a song called "Slow Down Sister" that was easy to dance to, so he didn't look like a fool. After a few songs, he offered her a drink, and they went to the bar.

"I don't believe I caught your name," he said with a smile.

"Cali," she replied, smiling back at him. "What's yours?"

"Heinz."

"Pleasure to meet you, Heinz. You're German, right?"

"Close. I'm from a small country on the German border, called Drusselstein."

"Oh, wow...! That sounds pretty cool. I've lived in Danville, California pretty much all my life."

"Really? You never left?"

"Didn't get the chance. My high school sweetheart ended up getting me pregnant after we graduated, then dumped me when he found out I was carrying his babies. Twin boys. I've been a single mom ever since." Heinz listened to her intently, but was surprised when she talked about her kids. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I regret having them, or anything. It just makes life a bit harder when you have two boys to raise, two jobs, and no support from your family. They're teenagers, now, so it's even more stressful." She sighed. "And now I'm unloading on a total stranger. I'm really sorry, Heinz."

"No, don't be. I get it. I have a teenage daughter, myself, and she's a handful and a half!" he chuckled slightly, and so did Cali. "She keeps trying to convince my ex-wife that I'm evil, or something. I mean, what happened to the little girl who wanted nothing but a doll for her seventh birthday? Now she wants a car, and a boyfriend..."

"Teenagers."

"Teenagers," he repeated.

"All the drama that they mostly create for themselves, the disrespect, the attitude, the constant mood-swings. We're always the worst parents on the planet, no matter what we do for them!"

"And they always seem to forget that we were their age once! Vanessa's always telling me that I 'just don't get it.' Well, I would, if she would tell me what's going on without screaming in my face!"

"Oh, I know. Aiden just goes straight to his room and locks me out as soon as he gets home, and Kyle's always moaning 'cause I won't let him go out running the roads with his latest girlfriend when I've never even heard him mention her until that moment! Am I asking too much to want to protect my kids?"

"No, of course not!"

"Thank you!" Cali and Heinz grinned at each other and continued to chat for the rest of the night.

Grantaire, however, was mostly dancing with the blonde, who he found out was named Angel, and showing off his moves. He didn't really care for her all that much. He had gravitated toward her because she looked so much like his best friend, Enjolras, but he quickly found out that the similarities ended with their appearances. Angel was air-headed, plastic, and utterly annoying. Her whiny voice did nothing to help her win him over, but he continued to dance with her simply because she wouldn't let him leave her side. He looked over to where Heinz was chatting and laughing with his date, and instantly felt a pang of jealousy. Apparently, Angel noticed his distress. "Something wrong, hon?" she asked nasally.

"No, I just...need some air. Excuse me." Desperate to get away from the stereotypical dumb blonde, Grantaire made his way through the crowd to the exit. Just as he was leaving, he bumped into a red-headed girl, who glared at him with deep blue eyes.

"Watch where you're going, punk!" she sneered.

"Sorry, mademoiselle. I didn't see you," he replied politely, taking her off-guard.

"Obviously. Hey, you're not looking so hot. You gonna be sick, or somethin'?" Her voice had taken on an air of concern when she saw how pale he was.

"No. I just...can't breathe in here." He stumbled past her out into the open air. She followed him, wanting to make sure he was okay, and the two ended up talking for the rest of the night and exchanging phone numbers. Grantaire smiled, happy to not be skeptical about his future, even if it was only for one night.

* * *

*****HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!*****

Enjolras woke up to the smell of Maddie cooking something delicious for breakfast, presumably pancakes. Grinning, he got up and got dressed before she could even call him, walking out into the kitchen happily. "Oh, you're already up," she said. I was gonna surprise you..."

"I smelled it all the way from my room, Maman."

"Oh. Well, sit down, then. The table's already set. We're just waiting on your brother and Fiona," At this, she gave a wink, and Enjolras chuckled as he sat down. As if on cue, the two spies walked into the kitchen, hand-in-hand.

"Happy Valentine's Day, lovebirds," the blonde teased. Causing the couple to blush and roll their eyes. Mike walked over and ruffled his adoptive brother's hair playfully.

"Hey, at least I _have_ a girlfriend, kiddo."

"I'm actually a lot older than you. You know that, right?"

"You may have been born in the 1800's, but I have more experience."

"Touché."

"Seriously, though, Enj. Why _haven't _you found a nice girl to go out with since you've been here?"

"It just hasn't been my top priority, that's all. Besides, I'm perfectly happy spending Valentine's Day with my family." He smiled mischievously. "Or on a mission."

"Sorry, sweetheart," Fi cooed. "No mission, today. We always take Valentine's Day, Easter, Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Year's Eve off."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Mike added. "Mom would have a fit if we didn't." Fi swatted him on the arm, and Maddie laughed.

"Yes, I would, but that's not the only reason, and you know it!"

"Of course."

"Now, if you're all done arguing, the pancakes are ready. Let's sit down and eat." With that, they all sat down to a hearty breakfast, talked, and laughed.

* * *

*****HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!*****

Jehan spent most of his Valentine's Day in the park, writing poetry about two people who lost their loves, but found true love with each other. He almost didn't notice when Ally walked up behind him. "Hey, Jehan, what's up?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm just doing some more of my writing. How's everything at the Sonic Boom?"

"Just fine. Actually, I've got the day off because it's Valentine's Day. So...I was wondering...do you have any plans?" she asked shyly, staring at her shoelaces. Jehan chuckled slightly.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. I wouldn't mind if you sat beside me, though." Looking at him gratefully, she took a seat beside him. "Oh, forgive me...I never asked if you had plans."

"Nope, I don't, either. Austin's out with his new girlfriend, and Dez is hanging out with Trish, and Jimmy doesn't want any of us to be out alone, so I came to find you. You've been out here all day, and didn't get mobbed?"

"Why would I be mobbed? I'm just a humble poet and songwriter."

"Yeah, but you also have an amazing voice, and you're flipping gorgeous!" Realizing what had just slipped out, Ally blushed and covered her mouth. "D-did I just say that out loud...? Oh my gosh, I am sooooooooooo sorry..." she trailed off as Jehan gently kissed her cheek.

"Do not apologize for saying what you really feel." Ally then looked up into Jean Prouvaire's kind, blue eyes, and slowly reached up to kiss his lips. He smiled and kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her.

* * *

*****HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!*****

Valentine's Day at the Hecks' house was chaotic. Axl had left early in the morning to go tell Morgan that it was really and truly over between them, and that he loved someone else. Sue was complaining because Darren hadn't texted her since yesterday. Brick and Gavroche were making a truckload of valentines for their class on Monday, since they had Friday off. Frankie was stressing over what to get Mike, even though she knew that he had most likely forgotten. Eponine was baking cookies, trying to keep the kitchen as clean as possible while she did so. No one seemed to notice her, but that was just as well. She wanted to surprise the family for Valentine's Day as a 'thank you' for taking her and Gavroche into their home. She also found it easier not to think about Montparnasse when she was preoccupied with baking.

He had come to the house and pleaded with her, practically begged her to take him back, but she couldn't. He had hurt her in ways she dared not to think about. He had worked for her father's gang, robbing, stealing, and killing, and it had changed him forever. He was no longer the kind-hearted boy she grew up with, but a cold-blooded murderer, though he insisted that the opposite was true. Oh, how she had wanted to believe him, but her memories kept flooding back every time she got even close to forgiving him. So Eponine had to be cruel, and slam the door in his face. It had been surprisingly easy, but hard at the same time. "Maybe I should just let it go," she said to herself.

"Let what go?" Frankie asked, walking into the kitchen almost silently. "And what's with all the baking?"

"Huh? Oh! Actually, this was supposed to be a surprise..." the younger woman said sheepishly.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Frankie gave a small grin and came up to lean her elbows on the counter beside Eponine. "Seriously, though, what's up? You look like some ghost from your past is trying to eat you alive, or something."

"Well, that's a colorful way of putting it."

"Come on, spill. Not the dough!" the petite mother exclaimed, as Eponine had developed a mischievous smirk. "I mean what's eatin' you. You can tell me."

"You were sort of right. He is a ghost from my past, from Paris, but he's not 'eating me alive,' as you so eloquently put it. His name is Montparnasse, and he was my best friend when we were kids, and then..." she trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what had happened between them. "My father was in a horrible gang, and once 'Parnasse was old enough, he was forced to join. He quickly became one of the three leaders, which completely and totally changed him. He...he took to abusing me whenever father told him to...that was Monsieur Thenardier's way to punish his daughter for rebelling, I suppose. After a couple of years, I finally broke free of him and my father, and started spending most of my time either out on the streets or at the café, with Marius, Enjolras, Grantaire, and the rest of Les Amis. They were good to me, and helped me to believe that the world wasn't a completely dark place, and showed me that my life was worth fighting for. Enjolras...Enjolras said that when he thought I had died. I heard him. Right before I faded out of consciousness, I heard Enjolras say that he, and all of Les Amis, would fight even harder in my honor and memory."

"Wow..." Frankie gasped, taking in all of the information that her ward had given her. "But...that Montparnasse guy is gone, now. He can't hurt you anymore."

"He showed up at the door, yesterday, begging for my forgiveness and asking if I would take him back."

"Oh, my God! Did he try to attack you?! I can have Mike or Axl beat him up, if he did...!"

"No, no, he didn't do anything harmful...he actually seemed genuinely sorry, and I wanted to believe him, to believe we could be friends again, but..." Eponine sighed. "I don't know. I just don't know what to do." Suddenly, salty tears started streaming down the girl's face, and Frankie pulled her into a warm and gentle hug.

"Oh, honey... No one should ever have to go through even half of what you've had to deal with. It's cruel, and wrong. But what if he really was being sincere? What if all of that horrible stuff is truly in the past? What if coming to Orson actually has changed his life for the better, just like it has yours? I know it's hard, you don't think you're strong enough, but maybe you _should_ try to forgive him. Mend the bond." Eponine looked down at the older woman, and nodded.

"You're right. I will try...I just hope it works out for the best. I could never love him, but maybe we could rekindle our friendship, given the proper time."

"Attagirl," Frankie said with a smile, just as Axl walked in.

"Eponine? Where are you? I have to tell you something!" Eponine quickly dried her tears, put on a happy face, and stepped out of the kitchen.

"I'm right here, Axl. What's so urgent that you have to tell me as soon as you get-" She was cut off as Axl ran to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her deeply. Pleasantly surprised, she found herself putting her arms around his neck and returning the kiss.

"I love you, Eponine," he murmured after breaking away for air.

"Well, happy Valentine's Day to you, too, handsome," Eponine replied with a giggle.

* * *

**Well, that took all day to write, and I still didn't finish it, so it's a day late. Sorry, folks. Anyway, happy belated Valentine's Day, and I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please R&R and show your love for me! I wuvs you all~!**

* * *

**Update: 3/17/14 Sorry I haven't updated this in a month, but my computer was being a pain, and wouldn't connect me to the Internet. I am working on several different chapters of this, so expect more of Grantaire, Enjolras, and Prouvaire, as well as the debuts of Joly, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre! Yay! Anyway, don't give up on me, yet. Hobey-ho, let's go!**


	6. Chapter 6: The Curse of Les Amis!

**I finally figured out what I wanna do with these three! Yay! I've been struggling with what to do with Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Joly for-frigging-ever, and I just got this bright idea! First time writing for OuaT, so I hope it turns out alright! Once again, I don't own Les Miserables or any of the shows I happen to write the characters into. Hobey-ho, let's go!**

Four boys stood in a café where they had drank, talked, and sang of revolution with their friends only days before. Hours, actually. A charming ladies' man and a bespectacled law student held a quivering hypochondriac between them, trying to keep him calm as they awaited their fate. All three stared at their seemingly fearless leader, wondering what he was really feeling underneath his marble façade. He seemed almost inhuman in his stoicism. "E-Enjolras," the hypochondriac called out fearfully. "What if we don't make any difference? What if we're all laying down our lives for absolutely nothing?"

"Don't talk like that, Joly. We aren't going to die in vain," the charming young man to his left said, sounding more than a little unsure of his comforting words, but somehow knowing they were true.

"Courfeyrac's right," the other student said, looking down at his slightly younger companion. "We can't give up hope for the future."

"Yes, keep the faith, my friends," Enjolras commanded. "Whether we live or die, France will know a better tomorrow because of our actions!" Just then, they all heard shots from below. The floor exploded with holes from musket balls, and the three boys who were huddled together suddenly collapsed, crying out in pain. Enjolras looked surprised, but had no time to check on them, for he heard footsteps on the stairs, and the angered shouting of soldiers. Quickly, he said his goodbyes and ran to the top floor, assuming that he'd already lost them.

However, he failed to see the wisps of purple smoke coming up through the floor that soon enveloped each of his three friends. It would've been an eerie sight to behold, if anyone had been there to witness it, but by the time the soldiers got to that room, it, along with the three boys it had wrapped itself around, had utterly disappeared.

*****CURSE OF LES AMIS*****

Courfeyrac woke up in a very comfortable bed, the smell of eggs and bacon wafting up from the kitchen below. He smiled, got up, and got dressed in a white, collared shirt and faded jeans. He couldn't remember exactly how long he'd lived here, but he knew it felt like home. "Hey, Courf! Get your revolutionary butt down here, already!" Revolutionary. That word brought him back to reality. This place wasn't his home. Not even close. A look down at the scars from two bullets that had been accompanied by several wooden splinters reenforced that realization.

"So it wasn't a dream," he murmured to himself, surprised that he was speaking English with a Northern Irish accent instead of his normal French accent. "I'm definitely not in Paris, anymore. But then...where am I? And why does it seem so familiar to me?"

"Come on! Your eggs are getting cold, and Henry's practically begging to eat 'em!"

"Right. Coming, Emma!" he called, hurrying downstairs. When he entered the kitchen, more memories flooded back to him. The blond woman and her young son, the aforementioned Henry, had found him in the woods, half-dead, and saved his life. Then they were forced to bring him to a strange man...after that, his memory had dramatically changed. He had been living in Storybrooke, Maine his whole life, sharing an apartment with Mary-Margaret Blanchard before Emma Swan came into town. He knew, however that this wasn't true. His memories must have been altered, probably by that strange man. "Emma...what did that man do to my head?" he asked tentatively.

"Mr. Gold? He put you under a curse to try and alter your memories. I'm guessing it didn't work?" she inquired with a somewhat victorious smirk. "I told him not to bother, but he didn't listen. You're from too far in the past, and you've been through a hell of a lot."

"You healed pretty fast, though," Henry said. Courfeyrac looked at the boy, confused.

"How long have I been here, really?"

"About three days. I think the magic had something to with your healing, though. Sit down and eat, will ya?" Emma chided, and her newest charge took a seat beside her son. "There two others like you, but they weren't found in the forest, like you. A kid called Joly ended up in Regina's dad's crypt-tomb-lair-thingie. She said he wasn't hurt to bad, but they were both scared half to death. I guess he thought he was gonna get sick from being around a dead body, or something. Poor guy. Then there was the kid who showed up in Gold's shop. I haven't heard much about him, except that he wears glasses. Gold won't let anyone near him."

"Did Joly have his memory tampered with, as well?"

"Nope. Regina took him to Dr. Whale, instead."

"Strange, though, that Mr. Gold's magic didn't quite work on you," Henry said. The tone of his voice was eerily suspicious, almost like he was hundreds of years older than he looked. The boy looked back at his mother, but she just rolled her eyes.

"I told you before, Henry, Courf doesn't have magic. Gold's been off his nut all week, so he probably wasn't concentrating enough when he cast the curse."

"If you say so," the boy sighed, but kept his eyes on the young revolutionary for the rest of the morning. It was almost creepy how hungry and menacing his gaze looked. Courfeyrac wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.

*****CURSE OF LES AMIS*****

Combeferre stared at the older man defiantly. The past few days for him and been almost more hellish than the revolution, and he was quickly learning that Rumplestiltskin, or Mr. Gold as he had been called by most of the locals, was a twisted and evil sorcerer. True, he had healed Combeferre's wounds when he'd first arrived, but he had also tried to alter his and Courfeyrac's memories with a curse. Unfortunately, it seemed to work on his friend, though Combeferre had been able to resist. After that, there were many experiments, all of which the young man had stubbornly rejected. "I don't have magic!" he roared for what seemed like the millionth time that week.

"Yes, you do, or you wouldn't be able to resist my own!"

"There is no such thing! I'm able to resist you because you have no power over me! I will never give in to you, no matter how much you insist that I am some sort of closet sorcerer!" With that, Combeferre pushed past the man and stormed out of the shop's back room. He would've walked out of the shop all together, had he not heard a strange sound, coming from a small, ornate box on the counter. He didn't know what it was, but it seemed to be calling to him. Making sure no one saw him, he quickly grabbed the box and put it in his school satchel, which he had brought with him from Paris. As he turned to leave, however, he ran into a young woman who was about his age. "Oh, forgive me, mademoiselle, but I'm in a bit of a hurry," he said curtly, but she stopped him. There was a somewhat worried look in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "What did Rumple do to you?"

"Rumple? Is that your little pet name for that lunatic? He thinks I have magic."

"He's not a lunatic. If he thinks you have magic, you probably do." Combeferre just rolled his eyes and walked past her, exiting the shop. He found himself in a very modern but quaint little town. Nothing looked familiar to him, so he just picked a direction and started walking. It wasn't long before he knew he was hopelessly lost and he sat on a bench to rest and collect himself. He had no idea where he was, but it surely wasn't France. Everyone he'd met, so far, spoke English, but they both had different accents; one was Scottish, and the other was Australian. He definitely wasn't in the 1800's; this place looked far too modern for that. Evidently, at least some of the people here believed in magic, and knew how to use it. He wasn't sure whether to believe them or not, but he still had no idea how else to explain why he'd healed so fast, or how he'd even shown up here. That reminded him that needed to find his friends as quickly as possible. Courfeyrac was healed, that much he knew, but he hadn't seen Joly since they arrived. He was the one Combeferre was most concerned about.

Just as he was about to get up to go looking for the young hypochondriac, a woman with short, dark hair approached him. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, but was trying as hard as she could to keep them hidden deep within her. "You're the guy who showed up in Gold's shop, aren't you?" she asked. He nodded.

"I am Combeferre, and before you ask, no I do _not _have magic."

"I wasn't going to ask you that. I just need you to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because your little friend, Joly, needs you, and I don't know what else to do!" she snapped, and a small tear rolled down her cheek. Not expecting the reaction, Combeferre stepped forward and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright. I'll go with you."

*****THE CURSE OF LES AMIS*****

When Joly woke up, he was in a crypt, which scared the life out of him. First of all, he was alone in a dark, drafty, stone room with a dead body. Second of all, he wasn't in the cafe, in Paris, with his friends. Third of all, he was bleeding. 'I'm going to die here,' he thought to himself, panicking and curling up in the corner. 'I'm going to die alone, in a tomb, and no one will know what happened to me!' His thoughts turned to screams. "Help me! Somebody please, LET ME OUT OF HERE! HELP!" He tried banging on the walls and the door for hours on end, but to no avail. Tears streaked his dirty face as he once again slumped to the floor. No one was coming. No one knew he he was there. He was as good as dead.

Just as he was about to lose his last shred of hope, however, the door opened, and the crypt was filled with light. Joly looked up to see a feminine figure silhouetted against the daylight, and without even thinking about it, he sprang forward and hugged her tightly. "Oh, glorious angel, you have saved me from a horrible death!" he cried. She was too shocked to hug him back or push him away.

"Well, I've been called a lot of things, but 'Glorious Angel' is definitely not one of them... What were you doing in my father's tomb?"

"That body in there is your father...? I had no idea. As for why I was there, I don't know that, either. I'm just glad to be out!" The woman finally dislodged herself from his embrace, and glared at him. Now that his eyes were adjusted to the light, he could see that she was smartly dressed in a pantsuit, and had short, dark, wavy hair and dark brown eyes. She was also a few inches shorter than him. Still, her intense glare was enough to make him back up a bit.

"So, you expect me to believe you just randomly showed up in my father's tomb?" she asked, clearly debating whether she should believe him.

"Y-yes...that's what happened! One moment, I was in a cafe, in Paris, with my friends, and then the floor exploded and we all got shot, and then there was purple smoke everywhere! The next thing I knew, I was in there, about to bleed out! How did you find me, anyway? I didn't think anyone could hear me..."

"My son and his...friend were exploring the area, and they heard you screaming. You scared them half to death!"

"S-sorry, madame..." Joly said sheepishly.

"Regina. In any case, you should be glad they came and told me. And you're nowhere close to bleeding out. You weren't actually shot. More like grazed. Besides that, the wound looks like it clotted a long time ago." Sure enough, when Joly looked down at the wound on his side, he saw that it was no longer bleeding.

"So...so I'm not going to die?" he asked hopefully.

"Not from blood-loss, but we still need to get you to a doctor. Don't want that to get infected." Instantly, Regina regretted saying that because Joly was once again wailing that he was dead on his feet. "Oh, would you man up?" she snapped. "You're not a dead man walking, so just shut your trap and let me take you to the doctor! You're fine!" But no matter what Regina said, Joly still wouldn't stop crying. She was forced to knock him out with a mild sleeping spell, and carried him all the way to the local hospital. When she arrived, looking more frustrated than ever, Dr. Whale stared and opened his mouth to say something, but Regina beat him to it. "Don't ask, just help, and I swear, if you wake him up before you're done working on him, he's staying with you. Got it?" The doctor nodded, and helped her load the young man onto a gurney. Thankfully, this didn't wake him up.

The procedure only took about half an hour, and Regina was still in the waiting room when Dr. Whale came out with a very groggy, but otherwise unharmed Joly. "You'll have to help him get home, Regina. The drugs still haven't completely worn off, so he can barely walk on his own." Joly looked at her sleepily, gave her a half-smile, and quietly shuffled over to her. He stumbled over the last few steps, and Regina had to catch him in her arms.

"You alright, kiddo?" she asked, not even bothering to hide her slight worry. He nodded, thankful for the support, and regained his footing. "Alright. Since you're not from around here, and you're still recovering, I guess you'll have to stay with me." Joly nodded again, and they left the hospital. The walk to Regina's mansion was relatively quiet. Joly could hardly keep his eyes open, so Regina had to keep at least one arm around him at all times to prevent him from collapsing in the middle of a street. When they got there, she showed the young man an empty bedroom, and he promptly fell asleep on the bed. Regina smiled slightly, remembering when Henry would do that when he came home from school. Quietly and gently, she draped a blanket over his sleeping form, and walked out of the room. After everything that had gone on, she was tired, too. She made her way down the hall to her own room and laid down to take a quick nap.

When she woke up five hours later, she heard Henry and Joly talking and laughing in the kitchen. After nearly panicking when she saw the time on her alarm clock, she got up and made herself look presentable before going out to see what they were up to. Henry had taught Joly how to work various appliances so that he could make his own food, and both were now sitting at the table and eating ramen noodles. It seemed like Henry was already getting along well with the young man. Joly looked happy to be around him, and Henry was acting more like himself than he had in the last few days. Regina smiled at them, and walked into the kitchen. "Hello, boys. Sorry I wasn't able to let you in, Henry. I took a longer nap than I had intended."

"Aw, it's okay. Joly let me in. He said you needed your rest 'cause you pretty much carried him all day."

"He did...?"

"Yes, madame, I did," Joly said quietly. Regina rolled her eyes a bit.

"Seriously, kid, you don't have to call me 'madame'. I'm not that old!" Henry giggled slightly and his adoptive mother grinned. "Joly, I'm not really a very formal person. You can just call me Regina."

"Or Mom," the younger boy piped up. "That's what I call her!"

"That's because I actually _am _your mother, Henry...! Maybe not by blood, but I raised you!"

"Whoa, calm down, Mom. I didn't mean it like that. I meant that he could end up being like your second son."

"Oh."

"I don't know about that," Joly said. "I've only just met her, and I'm too old to be her son."

"Really? How old are you?"

"Eighteen, give or take a few centuries." They all chuckled, but Joly felt more more sad than entertained. He had been transported to a completely different place and time, and had no idea if any of his friends were still alive, or if he would ever see them again. Despite being surrounded by what could possibly be his new family, Joly felt completely alone. This depressed him more than ever, so he excused himself to his room with barely a word. No one could get him to come out for the next few days, except to eat, and even then he was mostly silent. He could hardly sleep at night because of the nightmares of either the revolution or the crypt that kept haunting his dreams, and often woke up in tears, or screaming. He was deathly afraid of this new world that he had landed in, and he didn't want anyone to know.

Regina grew more concerned about her new charge with every hour he spent alone, every scream she heard in the night, and every silent meal they shared. After three days, she couldn't take it anymore. She went to his room and knocked on the door. "Joly...?" she asked quietly. "May I come in and talk to you for a minute?" There was a long silence before he finally opened the door.

"Sure, I guess," he said sullenly. Regina noticed that there were dark circles under his reddened eyes, which told her that he had been crying only moments before. Without even thinking, she pulled him into a tight hug. A long second later, she felt his arms wrap around her and his shoulders begin to quake with each silent sob. She held the broken young man like that for about an hour before he finally looked up at her. "I...I'm sorry...I should really learn to control my emotions."

"No...keeping them bottled up only makes things worse when you finally let them out. Trust me, I know from experience. It's better to feel them as they come, rather than let them boil up inside of you. Besides, what are friends for?"

"You consider me a friend...?"

"Well, yes. You're probably the only person in this town who hasn't hated me at some point. Heck, the first time we met, you called me an angel!" Finally, she saw Joly crack a small smile, and she smiled back at him. "You're not alone, Joly."

"That's where you're wrong," he said, and his smile disappeared as he moved away from her to curl up on his bed. "I've been alone since I disappeared from that cafe in Paris. That's where all of my friends are, and most, if not all of them are dead. But I'm here. I survived. What did I do to deserve this?! Why did they have to die, and I had to live?!" This not only hurt Regina for some unknown reason, but made her angry, as well.

"Hey! Three days ago, you were afraid to die from a simple graze, and now you're suicidal?!"

"Exactly! I was afraid to die for my friends and their cause! I was a coward! The two men on either side of me were brave, and ready to face their fates! They should have lived instead of me!"

"No. Fearing death doesn't make you a coward, Joly. It makes you human. You were lucky to have survived! Condemning yourself won't honor your friends' memories! In fact, it only insults them further! Besides that, you have people here who care about you!"

"Who?! You, and the boy you think is your son?" Her mouth dropped open in shock, but Joly continued. "He's not the boy you think he is. He is a centuries-old demon, trapped in your son's body and using it as a disguise while he plots with his little friend to destroy this town, and everyone in it. Even if he were really your son, why should the two of you care about a coward like me?!" Regina was too upset to answer him. She had planned on telling him that she had heard about two other young men from his time showing up in Storybrooke, but now she was afraid to utter a single word, lest she completely break down in front of him. She was still wrapping her head around what he had said about Henry. "That's what I thought. You don't really care. Those were just pretty words meant to make me feel better. Well, guess what? I don't trust pretty words anymore."

"No..." A small tear ran down Regina's cheek as she moved to sit on the corner of his bed. "They were true, I swear..."

"Just get out," he cut her off, acid dripping uncharacteristically from his voice. Not knowing what else to do, she left his room and closed the door behind her. There was no way she could get through to him. For someone so young, he had been forced to grow up entirely too fast, and dealt with more loss and heartbreak than even she had endured. She couldn't even come close to understanding him. That's when the idea hit her: his friends. Henry had told her that two others had landed at different points in Storybrooke on the same day as Joly. One had ended up in the forest, and he'd helped Emma rescue the young man and nurse him back to health. The other had landed in Gold's pawn shop, and they met him when they went to get their own Frenchman healed by Rumplestiltskin's magic. Henry said he had dark hair and wore glasses. These two were the only ones who could bring Joly out of his depression, and she knew it.

Before she could give it a second thought, Regina walked out of her house and started toward Emma's apartment building. She really didn't want to have to deal with Rumple's antics, and Emma's place was closer. She was about halfway there when she came to a young man with dark hair and glasses sitting alone on a bench, deep in thought. "You're the guy who showed up in Gold's shop, aren't you?" she asked. He nodded.

"I am Combeferre, and before you ask, no I do _not _have magic."

"I wasn't going to ask you that. I just need you to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because your little friend, Joly, needs you, and I don't know what else to do!" she snapped, and a small tear rolled down her cheek. Combeferre stepped forward and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright. I'll go with you." And with that, they continued on to Emma's place. When they got there and knocked on the door, it took a while for Emma to answer.

"Regina? What do you want?"

"The guy you found in the forest. Is he fully healed?"

"Yeah, he just woke up this morning. If you want to pick up where Gold left off, he doesn't need his memories suppressed. His head's screwed up enough, as it is!"

"Honestly, Emma, I'm fine!" came a youthful, male voice with a Northern Irish accent. Its owner soon came to the door and pushed Emma out of the way somewhat playfully. However, his jovial expression turned dead serious when he saw the slightly older youth at Regina's side. "C-Combeferre...?" he asked, surprised that his friend had escaped from the sorcerer's pawn shop.

"Yes, Courfeyrac, I'm here. Your voice...it's so different!"

"Side effect of the curse that Scottish nutcase tried to put on me. It only half worked, though. I still remember everything that happened in Paris, but I also have the memories that he tried to implant. They aren't so bad, actually. Have you seen Joly?"

"No, but this Regina woman said she would take me to him."

"I need you both to come see him," she said sadly. "He's...he's in bad shape, and he needs his friends to be there for him."

"Will he live?" Courfeyrac asked anxiously, and Regina answered with a nod.

"He was only grazed, so I took him to a doctor who patched him up easily. Sometimes, medicine is better than magic." With this last statement, she glared at Emma, who rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Shouldn't have taken Courf to the crazy pawn broker-slash-sorcerer. Jeez, you're starting to sound like my mother!"

"Don't you ever compare me to Snow White, got it?!" This made Courfeyrac crack up laughing, and Combeferre and Emma soon followed suit, which only made Regina even more agitated. "Look, do you two cut-ups want to come help your friend, or not?!"

"Yes!"

"Of course!"

"Gosh, chill out, Regina. They were just having some fun. You don't have to kill the mood every time someone laughs, you know. Anyway, Courf, go help your friend."

"You'll be alright here on your own?" Emma laughed and ruffled the young man's dark, curly hair.

"Dude, I lived alone in Boston for years. I'll be fine. You're the one I'm worried about!" Courfeyrac laughed as well, and swatted her hand away from his head.

"Stop treating me like your kid brother...! I'm sure I'll be in good hands with Regina and Combeferre." Regina rolled her eyes, but nodded.

"It's not like I'm going to give him a poisoned apple, or anything. I really want Joly to be okay, which means we need to go, now." She gave both of the young revolutionaries a stern look, and they followed her out of the apartment building after saying goodbye to Emma.

*****CURSE OF LES AMIS*****

Joly awoke to the front door opening, and the house filling with familiar voices. They belonged to Henry and Felix, the two boys who had supposedly found him. He listened silently as they carried on their conversation. "I can't believe no one suspects anything," Felix said gleefully. "Even your 'mothers' don't have a clue!"

"Exactly. I want to keep it that way until we can unleash the curse. Storybrooke must become the new Neverland. Wait a moment, Felix, does that mean you doubted me?"

"Of course not! After all, Peter Pan never fails." As he said this, a chill went down Joly's spine. Even if he was alone in this realm, that didn't mean he could just sit back and allow these people to have their lives ruined, as well. Then he finally realized why he had ended up here, of all places and times. He had to stop the demon known as Peter Pan before he could enact the horrible curse. But how? Enjolras was usually the one who came up with all of the crazy plans, not Joly. Besides that, he had no idea how or when these two were planning to unleash their curse. "Have you been able to get the scroll, yet?" Felix suddenly asked, and Joly returned his attention to their conversation.

"No, but I will. I know it's in her vault. If only we had been able to get in when she'd found that strange French boy!"

"Speaking of Joly, how is he?" Felix's voice took on a surprisingly soft tone when he asked this.

"Why does it matter? Don't tell me you actually care for him...!" Pan/Henry's laugh was unnatural and malevolent as he mocked his partner. Joly had no idea why, but this made him sort of angry. He could tell that Felix was embarrassed by the mockery, as well.

"What? We've both been through a lot, but he had to fight in a war and watch all of his closest friends get killed! Doesn't that make you feel at least a little bit sorry for him?!"

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me," Joly said coolly, surprising even himself as he stalked over to the other two boys. "And I'm fine, thank you very much. You're so kind for asking, Felix."

"W-what are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in your room...!" came from a very bewildered Pan/Henry, and Joly rolled his eyes.

"What are you, my warden? I was hungry, so I came out to get a snack, and I just happened to overhear you two arguing about my life. That's none of your business, by the way. But I am curious about one thing: Why on earth _do_ you care so much about my well-being, Felix?" The blond Lost Boy flushed red, and was about to answer when the front door opened once again, revealing Regina and two men who were only slightly older than Joly. The latter's eyes grew to the size of saucers and filled with tears. "C-Courfeyrac...? C-Combeferre...?" Each of them nodded in turn, and Joly quickly ran to hug them. They both hugged him back tightly. "I missed you both so much...I thought you were dead!"

"No, we all left together, as far as I can tell," Combeferre said, but Courfeyrac was more emotional in his answer.

"We both missed you, too, kiddo," he said, ruffling the youngest revolutionary's hair.

Regina watched the three of them happily. She was relieved to see that Joly had returned to his normal, sweet, vulnerable, loveable self, and wanted him to stay that way forever. However, she was still surprised when the teen came over to hug her as well. "I'm so sorry," he said, tears streaming down his face. "I never should have been so disrespectful to you, especially after everything you've done for me. It won't happen again, I swear!"

"Hey, I can't really blame you. You've been through a lot these past few days. I'll be willing to forgive you, as long as you don't stay shut up in your room all the time, and you acknowledge that you're not alone, anymore. Is that clear?" Her words were gentle, but firm, and Joly nodded. Henry smirked.

"Told you he'd be like a son to you," he said in a sing-songy voice. Regina rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Oh, hush. You know you'd be jealous if you ever had a brother!"

"Would not! Besides, I bet Joly would make the best big brother ever!" Everyone else laughed and smiled, but Felix was truly shocked by this statement. Either Pan was more of a brilliant actor than he realized, or he really cared for Joly as he himself had. Regardless, Felix grinned and laughed with the others.

"So, you two are revolutionaries, like Joly?" he asked.

"We were," Courfeyrac replied. "But we're here, now, and ready to start new lives."

"Preferably with people as kind as Regina and Emma," Combeferre added.

"Wow...it's been a long time since I've been called 'kind' by anyone," Regina mused. "Oh, and I heard you ended up with Rumplestiltskin. Was he not a gracious host?"

"No. He kept trying to experiment on me to see if I had magic."

"Actually, all three of you probably have it. Joly's is the strongest, as far as I can tell." Combeferre scowled at this.

"No. There is absolutely no way..." Regina interrupted him by disappearing into a cloud of purple smoke, then reappearing right behind the oldest of the three revolutionaries.

"Does that convince you?"

"A parlor trick."

"Then how is Joly poofing all over my house? Wait, how _is_ he doing that? I never taught him...that's so strange." Sure enough, Joly was popping up in purple smoke throughout the house. Felix, Henry, and Courfeyrac were greatly entertained by this, and Joly, hearing the question, poofed over to Combeferre and Regina.

"Guess I'm a fast learner," he said jovially. For once in his life, Combeferre looked genuinely stunned.

"Hey, Joly, I think you broke him!" Courfeyrac laughed. But Joly wasn't the only reason why Combeferre had frozen up. He had begun hearing a voice in his head. A very urgent voice.

"Open the box," it said. "Let me out! I need my body back before he destroys Storybrooke!" Breaking out of his daze, Combeferre turned to Regina.

"Alright, so Joly has magic. That doesn't mean Courf and I do."

"Wrong. You were both able to resist Rumplestiltskin's memory curse, which means that you're both more powerful than him. Something tells me he's not happy about that. He's going to want to come after you and offer you a deal: swear loyalty to him, or forever be known as his enemy. You won't like what he does with his enemies. Courfeyrac should be safe with Emma, but you need to stay here. I promise I won't let him harm you, or Joly."

"Really? You would do that for us...? But why?"

"Because I really don't approve of my rival using schoolboys as weapons of mass destruction. I may be known as the Evil Queen, but even I'm not that psychotic. Besides...I've grown quite fond of your little hypochondriac friend." She smiled slightly, aiming a glance at Joly, who was talking with Felix and Courfeyrac. "Like Henry said, he's become like a second son to me, and you're his friend. I want to keep both of you as safe as possible."

"I totally called that!" Henry piped up. Combeferre smiled at both of them.

"Thank you," he said.

"My pleasure. Come on, I'll show you to your room." With that, Regina gently grabbed Combeferre's hand, and lead him to the room next to Joly's. It was very comfortable, and the twenty-five-year-old actually felt quite at home. Regina left him alone to get adjusted, but said dinner would be ready for all of them in about an hour. Combeferre laid back on the bed in an attempt to get a quick nap, but once again, the voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Your magic is stronger than Rumplestiltskin's! I know you can open the box and release me! Please, help!" Not being able to stand it anymore, he took the box out of his satchel and stared at it, debating whether or not he should open it. After five minutes, curiosity got the better of him, and he focused all of his energy on opening the strange box. His efforts were rewarded when the lid flipped up, and a red haze oozed out. After the haze cleared, however, he was surprised to see a boy about Joly's age, with sandy blond hair and green eyes, standing in the middle of the room. "Thank you so much!" he exclaimed with an English accent, and ran to hug Combeferre.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Peter Pan."


End file.
